


Elegy

by autisticaizawashouta



Series: Gender is Hard 'verse [4]
Category: Sanders Sides, Thomas Sanders
Genre: Angst?, Gen, Non-binary character, Not Really?, School Shootings, author thinks they're clever, discussion of school shootings, everyone is non-binary, i could not spell that word right tonight for some reason, kind of?, typo of the night: lehere, vent fic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-22
Updated: 2018-02-22
Packaged: 2019-03-22 11:28:48
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,241
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13763172
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/autisticaizawashouta/pseuds/autisticaizawashouta
Summary: Roman doesn't want to keep crying.A look into how Roman processes the Marjory Stoneman Douglas shooting and the fallout thereof.





	Elegy

**Author's Note:**

> quick run-down of pronouns:  
> Roman and Virgil both use they/them in this 'verse, and Logan and Patton both use he/him.

Roman’s chest hurt. It had hurt for a week.

“It is simply your body’s physical response to the emotions you are feeling,” Logan told them. He hadn’t needed to look it up on his phone, just rattled that information off.

“I don’t like it,” Roman replied, pushing back tears again. “It hurts.”

“I wouldn’t expect it not to,” Logan said. He reached a hand out, hesitated, and then placed it on Roman’s upper arm. “It hurts me, too.”

Roman sniffled, and placed their hand over Logan’s. “You seem so- calm, and collected, and cool, and, and here I am… I’m a royal mess.”

“A calm appearance on the outside doesn’t negate the fact that one may be turmoiled beneath the surface,” Logan said. Roman looked over, into his eyes- so blue, and just as distraught as they felt. Their chest felt too tight. There was pressure rising. Roman choked it down. They had already done enough crying. It was time to move forward, to focus on what to do next.

Except they couldn’t.

They tried, and they failed, but a week after it happened, they couldn’t stop the squeeze in their chest at the thought of it. They shoved down the tears- there were better things they could be doing with their time! They needed to focus on the next steps. On how they would help prevent something like that from ever happening again (it had happened too many times already).

“You still seem distressed,” Logan said, falling into step beside them. “Is there anything I could do to help?”

“I don’t know,” Roman replied, taking a deep breath and huffing it out. Next to them, the taller teen adjusted the books in his arms and looked over.

“Would you like to come over to my place after rehearsal? My parents are making rosemary-lemon chicken with brown rice,” Logan offered.

Roman considered it for a moment, and nodded. “Okay. I’d like that. Should I head over right after rehearsal?”

“I can pick you up,” Logan replied.

“Oh, thanks,” Roman replied, blinking back tears for the fifteen millionth time that week. That was… a slight exaggeration, but it felt like they had cried fifteen million times.

 

Rehearsal went about as well as was expected, when pretty much the entire cast was still shaken to the core. It wasn’t great, but the teens were scraping together some veneer of functionality. Normalcy was starting to be restored.

Logan was waiting in the student parking lot, his sensible white hybrid parked towards the top. He was reading something on his phone when Roman approached and knocked on the window. Logan startled, noticed them, and then rolled his eyes and unlocked the doors.

“You nearly gave me a heart attack,” he said, as Roman shoved their bags into the back seat.

“You’re not allowed to have a heart attack,” Roman replied, pouting at Logan.

Meeting Logan’s parents would give someone a good idea as to why Logan was, well, the way he was. Mr. and Mrs. Lehrer, between them, had two and a half encyclopedias and a collection of National Geographic that stretched back to the forties. Roman themself was kind of, maybe, a little bit in awe of that second fact. Logan tended to get smug when it was brought up- he was just as attached to the collection as his parents.

Mrs. Lehrer was grading papers when Logan and Roman entered the house. They took their shoes off at the door- the Lehrer family was very particular about that rule. Shoes off inside, no ifs, ands, or buts about it.

“Hello,” she said, looking up and setting her purple pen down. “It’s nice to see you, Roman, how’s the play coming along?”

“It’s coming along quite fabulously, if I do say so myself,” they replied, adding a hand flourish for good measure. “We’ll be the talk of the town!”

“Well, I can’t wait to see it,” she replied, standing up and stretching her arms over her head. Her husband was in the kitchen, keeping watch over the chicken and rice while it cooked. Both of them were, ironically, teachers- Mrs. Lehrer taught writing and English courses at the college, while Mr. Lehrer taught fourth grade.

Mr. Lehrer greeted both his son and Roman with hugs- out of them all, he was probably the most tactile.

Dinner was on the table a couple minutes later, and the four of them were sitting down to eat. Logan was keeping conversation topics light- he could talk for ages about astronomy, his favorite subject, and he could expound upon the things he was working on in class that day with even more depth than his teachers had. Roman appreciated it- and they’d have to make sure to tell him that, later.

The company was excellent, the food was good- and Roman’s heart still… hurt.

Melancholy returned to the atmosphere as Logan drove Roman back to their house. They drove in silence for the first few minutes, before Logan spoke.

“I… am sorry I couldn’t help more,” he said, and Roman shook their head, sighing.

“It’s… not your fault,” they said. “I just wish I could stop hurting already. I’m sick of crying every other period.”

They fell silent again.

Logan took a deep breath, steeling himself.

“I’m anxious about attending school,” he said. “More anxious, even, than I was while I was in middle school, or freshman year. Anxious in a… different way.”

Roman nodded, making listening noises.

“I don’t know why no other mass shooting has made me feel this way. I worry that our school is next,” he said. “I know I’m not the only one.”

“I’m worried too,” Roman said, their voice small. Too small.

“Statistically, it is highly unlikely we will die in a school shooting. However, that does not rid me of my anxiety. All we can do is give it time,” he said. Roman nodded. They were outside their house now.

“I hope you feel better soon,” Logan said, looking over at Roman. “But take as much time as you need. I’ll see you tomorrow?”

Roman smiled. “Yeah. Yeah, see you tomorrow.”

They got out of Logan’s car, and watched him drive away. They turned and walked to their front door, pulling their keys out of their pocket. No lights were on- evidently, their father wasn’t home yet. That didn’t really bother them.

They locked the front door behind them, and for good measure, they locked the door to their room behind them once they were in it. Their school stuff went on the floor next to their desk, and they stretched. Gravity took over as they leaned backwards and flopped onto their bed. Their old, soft red and gold blanket was comforting beneath them, and they rolled themself up in it. Try the newest sushi delicacies: Roman Rolls!

They huffed a little at their own joke, but they were still… sad.

So they did what all good teenagers did: they vagued about it on tumblr. Sure enough, someone messaged them about it-  **doubledogdadjoke** , er, Patton, was the first one, popping into their inbox with a string of emoji and an “I’m sending love and positivity your way! I hope you feel lots better soon!”.

Roman appreciated that. A lot.

It was well-known in their community that  **fall-out-anxiety** , or, just Anxiety, was Patton’s best friend. And since the two older enbies had seemingly adopted both Logan and Roman, they didn’t have to wait too long for Anxiety’s first message.

**_fall-out-anxiety:_ ** _ patton mentioned your post. just read it. what’s up? _

**_divine-romance:_ ** _ I’m just _

**_divine-romance:_ ** _ ugh _

**_divine-romance:_ ** _ It’s been a week and I’m still angry, and I’m sad, and I’m terrified to go to school because what if we’re next, and I’m furious at everything that contributes to this culture of violence and bigotry and hatred and I’m just sick of hurting and I’m sick of watching people get hurt _

**_fall-out-anxiety:_ ** _ sounds like you need to vent a little _

**_fall-out-anxiety:_ ** _ go ahead. i’ll listen. _

**_divine-romance:_ ** _ I hate that they’re still letting this happen. I get physically sick when I’m online, on Facebook, or even on tumblr, and some people can’t even see past their stupid gun fetish for two seconds to care that MORE CHILDREN DIED A WEEK AGO _

**_divine-romance:_ ** _ THAT THIS COULD’VE BEEN PREVENTED _

**_divine-romance:_ ** _ I’m sorry, I know you don’t like it when people type in all caps at you. _

**_fall-out-anxiety:_ ** _ don’t sweat it. i’m angry too. _

**_fall-out-anxiety:_ ** _ better to let it all out than bottle it up. that’s how you get it festering and uh _

**_fall-out-anxiety:_ ** _ yeah i’d rather you yell at me than let it fester _

**_divine-romance:_ ** _ Thank you, Anxiety. I won’t do it again though. I feel bad forgetting this time. _

**_fall-out-anxiety:_ ** _ like i said, don’t sweat it. _

Roman took a deep breath. Anxiety was being way too nice to them. They knew all-caps was one of Anxiety’s triggers and they had still…

Roman had apologized, and Anxiety had accepted it, in their own way. It was time to move forward and they would make sure not to do it again.

**_divine-romance:_ ** _ Just… do they have no compassion? How could they see seventeen people dead and immediately think about making sure their guns don’t get taking away? _

**_fall-out-anxiety:_ ** _ people like that can’t really see past themselves. some learn, a lot don’t. _

**_divine-romance:_ ** _ I could understand if their reason was not wanting to give the government more power! I don’t want to give the government more power! But they just don’t want to give up their guns, their power fantasy. _

**_fall-out-anxiety:_ ** _ yeah. it’s a trip. i had to do a gun control debate for a class once. guess who got assigned to the anti-gun-control side? uh yeah. me. the mental gymnastics i had to go through just to even try to understand their side of it… _

**_divine-romance:_ ** _ I think I’d just walk out, tbh _

**_fall-out-anxiety:_ ** _ i almost did. several times. it’s emotionally charged, on all sides, but they’re different emotions. their side is selfish, and hateful, and prideful… and i can’t say we’re not at least a little hateful, i know i hate the way things are, but… i also care enough to try and change it. to make it so maybe kids stop dying. that’s where i see the big difference. _

Roman bit their lip and screwed their face up.

**_divine-romance:_ ** _ I just wish I could stop crying. I just wish it didn’t hurt so much anymore. _

**_fall-out-anxiety:_ ** _ you can’t control that. you can understand emotions, but they don’t make a lot of logical sense. they do what they do. you’re probably in shock. grieving. i was 17 when sandy hook happened. 20 when ucc happened. it’ll be hard, but you gotta let your emotions run their course. _

**_divine-romance:_ ** _ how did you deal with it? _

**_fall-out-anxiety:_ ** _ honestly? i didn’t have the best coping mechanisms for either of those so i don’t really feel comfortable giving you advice. i do wanna tell you that whatever you’re feeling? however you feel it? it’s okay. it’s not shameful. it’s not bad. it may hurt, but it’s like… you gotta clean the cut out before you can bandage it, got it? _

**_divine-romance:_ ** _ I think so _

**_divine-romance:_ ** _ I just need to… give it time. _

**_fall-out-anxiety:_ ** _ as much time as it needs. can’t rush healing. _

**_divine-romance:_ ** _ Thank you, Anxiety. _

**_fall-out-anxiety:_ ** _ no problem. don’t vanish, k? _

**_divine-romance:_ ** _ I won’t. I’ll catch you later. _

Roman set their phone down, and exhaled gently. Talking with Anxiety had… helped. Quite a bit.

Anxiety had related it all to taking care of a physical wound… You couldn’t rush the healing of a physical injury, but you could do things to help it heal. You had to clean it, or else it would fester.

Well… Roman hadn’t written any poetry since Wednesday. They squirmed out of their blankets so they could belly-wriggle to the edge of their bed so they could reach to their bags to get their notebook. It was quite the stretch- they almost fell off the bed, but, thankfully, they did not.

Notebook turned to a clean page and pen in hand, Roman started writing. They had to get it out.

It… wasn’t their most polished work. Their hands were shaking. They were crying. It hurt.

But… it felt better, in a small way.

They typed it out on their phone and posted it to tumblr before they could second-guess themself. They already spewed enough personal stuff all over the blue hell void, what was this in the greater scheme of things but another piece of their soul they were choosing to bare to the world at large?

...When putting it that way, they almost deleted the post.

 

_ Once again, it has happened _

_ What has happened, already _

_ Too many times it has happened _

_ Too many times we have warned you _

_ Too many children are dead _

_ Too many more will die _

_ How many more of us must you kill _

_ Before you satisfy your greed? _

_ How many will your anger slay _

_ Who should’ve seen another day _

_ How many times must we watch _

_ Their hatred kill our friends _

_ Sandy Hook, UCC _

_ Virginia Tech, UT, Columbine _

_ Marjory Stoneman Douglas _

_ How many more of us will die _

_ For you to satisfy your greed _

 

They weren’t sobbing anymore. Logan, Anxiety, and Patton were the first three to reply to their poem… thingy… whatever it was.

They were still scared to go to school tomorrow. But, maybe, they had truly started the process of healing.

**Author's Note:**

> i have a lot of emotions.  
> i've been reeling, for the past week. and, well, i figured Roman would be a good fit to, sort of, process through?  
> i hope everyone reading this is dealing with their own grief and shock in healthy and constructive manners.  
> i love you all.  
> stay safe.  
> stay strong.  
> with love,  
> Kestrel


End file.
